A Visit to Myrtle
by BookwormKiwi
Summary: Ironically, all the bathrooms in Hogwarts are blocked, except one.


A Visit to Myrtle

Summary: Ironically, all the bathrooms in Hogwarts _were_ blocked, except one.

A/N: I was reading GoF again, and thought of this when Harry was talking to Myrtle in the Prefect's bathroom.

Please forgive me, I'm reading House M.D. fanfic as I write this, so Harry might have some House-ish lines.

* * *

A notice had been put on the board a week before.

_All bathrooms will be out of order on March 5th_

_Due to repairs on plumbing._

_If you require the use of a bathroom, _

_Please access the one in the corridor to the right _

_Of the Charms classroom_

And now, Harry really needed to 'access' the only bathroom that worked. Problem was, so did half the school. The queue for the bathroom snaked down the corridor, making it hard for the Charms students to get to their class, and down the passageway to the left. It was only one bathroom, a unisex one.

Harry was desperate to relieve himself. He could never wait until he reached the front of the line.

He waited. No brilliant thought struck him, so for the meantime, he was stuck.

Until he saw Hermione standing about 5 people behind him. He motioned her over, but she shook her head.

"Sorry, Harry, I can't, I'll lose my place in the line." She gestured over her shoulder at the 20 people behind her.

Harry sighed. He needed a brain. Or rather, a smarter brain than he the one he currently possessed.

He glanced at the students behind him, and stepped out of line. They shuffled forward gratefully.

He went over to stand next to Hermione.

"Wait your turn!" one of the kids shouted aggressively.

Harry ignored him.

"Hermione, is there _any_ other toilet?" he asked. She gave him a withering look.

"Do you think I'd be standing here if there was?" she answered. "You've just lost your place in the line, you know."

He regretfully looked down the hallway towards the bathroom that he so needed to use.

Perhaps there was one bathroom they'd forgotten.

Harry walked quickly, almost running. There wasn't time to hang about.

Checking in on all the bathrooms he passed, he couldn't find one that didn't have a large 'Out of Order' sign on it.

Floor after floor, he couldn't find a usable bathroom.

Mentally slapping himself for giving up his place in the queue (he would have been and gone by now), he headed back upstairs.

Harry passed another corridor that he had missed earlier, in his rush to get around. He recognised it as the one that had held the messages from the Chamber of Secrets. They had disappeared after Harry rescued Ginny.

He went down the corridor, praying desperately that this bathroom wasn't being repaired.

He was disappointed to see another 'Out of Order' sign on the door, but as that was always there, he wasn't sure whether it was true to its word.

He pushed the door open hopefully. A pearly white figure swooped down on him.

"Harry!"

"Hi, Myrtle," he said grudgingly. "Are your toilets being repaired as well?"

Glancing around, he didn't see any workers, but, being Hogwarts, he doubted they were needed.

"Repaired?" Myrtle asked distantly.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Like…the rest of the ones in the castle?"

"No," she replied. She was staring at Harry in a rather disturbing manner. Harry tried to edge around her.

"Uh…do you mind? I really need to go," he asked politely.

"Of course," she said. "I'm not stopping you. Walk through me, why don't you? Ignore the fact that I'm dead. Like you always-"

"Uh, _thanks_, Myrtle," he said hastily. "I know you're dead."

"No thought at all to my condition!" she sobbed hysterically, throwing herself into a nearby toilet.

Harry, thinking, 'Her _condition_?' quickly closed the door to one of the cubicles, locking himself inside.

He wondered faintly why Myrtle's toilet wasn't being repaired, but it made sense, really. If no one ever used it, normally, there wasn't much point making it better.

Flushing the toilet, Harry stalked out of the cubicle, and over to the sinks.

He was very much alarmed when Myrtle shot out of the toilet, and zoomed around the bathroom, coming to a stop right in front of him.

Temporarily blinded by the cloudy figure in front of him, he groped for the tap to turn off the running water.

He shook his hands dry, and several water droplets flew right through Myrtle.

Harry almost expected her to give another cry of anguish, before leaving him again. But she didn't.

"Why don't you come visit me?" Myrtle demanded, her arms folded across her chest.

"I was under the impression that I was," Harry said carefully.

Myrtle sighed soberly.

"Once every two years," she said. "That's how often I see you."

Harry eyed her warily, in case she seemed like she would run off crying again.

The thought made him smile. Myrtle couldn't run off anymore than she could breathe.

"What are you smiling at?" Myrtle asked suspiciously. "You're laughing at me again. I knew it!"

"No, Myrtle, I'm just…just happy," Harry said quickly. "Uh, for you."

"You're happy _for_ me?"

"About…seeing you. I'm happy to see you."

Harry was growing very uncomfortable, and wished that he'd just stayed put in the queue.

Myrtle's cheeks kind of fogged up.

"Are you really, Harry?" she said shyly. "Or are you just saying that?"

I'm just saying that, Harry agreed mentally.

"Of…of course I'm not just saying that."

Where was Hermione when you needed her?

"I, uh…I need to go," Harry said, hastily making his way to the door.

"Ok," Myrtle said quietly, quite startling Harry. He turned around. "Leave. Just like everyone else. First my dad. Then my mum. Now you."

Harry was curious. He was curious at his feeling for pity for this girl. Or, this ghost. He wasn't sure whether they still classified as having a gender.

"Wh- I'll stay," Harry said. He was going to ask 'What happened', but her look of great sorrow stopped him.

It turned out that Harry needn't have asked.

"After I died, I stayed home with my parents. I brought a tension into my home; they hated looking at me like this."

Opaque tears slid down her pale cheeks.

"They fought a lot, until dad packed up and left. Mum was left to raise me. She…didn't have it in her. She died when I was seventeen."

Harry stood awkwardly.

"I'm sor-" but Myrtle hadn't finished.

"I had no where to go. I haunted that horrible Olive Hornby, until she went mental! Of course, then I was restrained to my bathroom. And so I stay here now."

Harry noticed that as Myrtle told him about Olive Hornby, she'd cheered up quite remarkably.

"I'd be much happier if you visited me once in a while," she said softly.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. "I'll…yeah, I'll visit."

Edging towards the door, he gave an attempt of a hearty wave.

"I'll…see you later, Myrtle," he said weakly.

"I'll be waiting!" she called, as he disappeared out the door.

Harry gave a deep sigh, and ran towards the common room, intent on sharing his conversation with his friends.

Passing a notice stuck on the wall, he slowed down to read it.

_Bathroom repairs not finished_

_On March 6th,_

_Please access the bathroom in the corridor to the right _

_Of the Charms classroom_

When he said later, he had meant a _lot_ later. Later than tomorrow, at any rate.

* * *

A/N: Ok, it was supposed to be fluff, but didn't turn out as humorous as I would've hoped. Oh, well. 


End file.
